


Darling Boy

by Bennyhatter



Series: Wendigo [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: ALL OF IT, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, And a bit of squint-and-you-miss-it sweetness, Ardae is still a little shithead, Because this is literally just porn, But he's not an asshole about it, But mostly claiming porn, Daddy Kink, Dominant/Submission, He's also a complete bottom, I don't know what else to tag, It's all porn, Like five pages of absolute filth, M/M, Original work - Freeform, Porn, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Semyon is such a top, begging kink, biting kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5896171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bennyhatter/pseuds/Bennyhatter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ardae lets Semyon stake his claim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darling Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Literally just five pages of filth. I am unapologetic. And also kind of proud.

Fingers walk up his naked spine, rousing him enough that he hums quietly and arches his back into the contact. The gentle touches become firmer, fingertips replaced by a warm palm that sweeps from the nape of his neck to his tailbone. Knees dig into the bed on either side of his thighs as a weight settles just below the swell of his ass; another hand joining in and massaging his sleep-relaxed muscles while he buries his face into the pillow and moans.

“Sleep well, pet?” Semyon whispers into his ear. Ardae rumbles softly in response, the endearment making heat spark low in his abdomen. He digs his fingers into the mattress, gripping the sheets and balling them up in his fists. Bracing himself with his own knees, he bucks up and hisses when he feels the way the man is slowly hardening in his sleeping pants; he grinds back against the thickening swell of Semyon’s cock.

“Gonna do somethin’ with that, Daddy?” he challenges, turning his head enough to look back over his shoulder with eyes he knows are already hazy and dark. Another firm press of fingers into a knot between his shoulders makes him groan, his eyelids fluttering, and he knows exactly what he looks like—spread out and naked, nothing to preserve his modesty as he moans and rubs his cock into the bed beneath him. His hair is down and mussed by sleep, the long strands tickling against his heating skin until he frees up one of his hands long enough to drag it off to the side. Semyon’s eyes are dark, the scent of his interest edging into something smoky and thick.

“Want me to, darling?” Hot breath brushes the shell of his ear, making him tremble as heat prickles across his throat and face. He grits his teeth to hold back the noise that wants to slip free. “I could, if you wanted me to. You’ve been a good boy.”

“You think so?” He’s been a brat, in his opinion. It’s been a few days since leaving his father’s house—a few days of freedom he hasn’t known what to do about; nights of prowling through the darkness in his true body instead of skulking through the streets and letting men bend him over for money. He doesn’t miss that part at all, but he’s not sure what else to do with himself now that he doesn’t have to whore himself out to pay for his continued survival. He hasn’t even gone back to get what money he has left, and he’s not sure if he will or not. If there’s a chance his father will be there, waiting, he’s more than happy to stay away.

The downside is that other than running through the marshes, feeling the wind against his dark, velvety skin, he’s got no way to work out his building aggression. Semyon has been so infuriatingly patient with him, calming him easier than anyone else has ever been able to. So no, he hasn’t been a _good boy_ , but he’s selfish and he’s greedy, and in the end he nods anyway and arches his neck, offering his nape and the dark tendrils of his birthmark. “Been a good boy for ya, Daddy,” he agrees a little breathlessly, anticipation filling him. “Can be even better if you want me to. Can be so good.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Semyon chuckles, scraping his teeth against the top knob of Ardae’s spine. It makes him tremble harder, his breath hitching and his nails digging into the mattress until it starts to hurt. “I like your passion, darling.”

“’S that what you call it?” He’s still rocking back against the hard cock pressing against his ass, the beast rumbling agreeably. They haven’t done anything since the night Semyon pinned him to the bed and swore his devotion to him, breaking through the fortress of Ardae’s aggression and carving a place for himself. He’s never been particularly eager for sex before, because after so many years of brutal fuckings and more wounds than can even be considered, he’s never seen the good aspects of it. Now that he’s gotten a taste for how it can really feel, he finds he’s ravenous for more—hungry for the feeling of Semyon inside of him, taking him hard and fast but not violently. The man doesn’t strike him as a violent lover, but he’s definitely a Dom. He’s the right combination of kinky fucker and sweet-talker, and just the thought of it makes Ardae groan and rut harder against the sheets, biting at his lip. For once, he’s anticipating enjoying this for more reasons than just being taken the way he likes. A hard fuck is always good, and some biting is more than appreciated, but there was never any feeling in it before. The johns just took what they wanted, threw the money at him, and left.

Semyon’s not going to be leaving him after this, though, and that heightens things in a way he was never expecting. He’s frantic, bucking up against the immovable force pinning him and whimpering when Semyon’s fingers curl around his shoulder and hold him down, hold him in place while the fingers on his other hand brush against every scar and freckle spread over the canvas of his back.

“I think I’d like to hunt down every single person who has ever treated you badly, and I would like to do horrible things to them,” Semyon muses. His fingers are trailing lower, creeping slowly toward his ass, and Ardae grits his teeth as he tries to offer himself up.

“ _Daddy,_ ” he whines, and he doesn’t miss the quick stutter of Semyon’s heartbeat or the way his scent deepens. It makes him smirk and he puts a little more breathless need into his voice for the next words. “Daddy, please.”

“You are an awful little minx, aren’t you, pet?” There’s nothing but affection in the words; he groans when he feels Semyon shift down until the man is straddling his knees. The hand on his shoulder drops to grip his hip, urging him to lift himself slightly. He does so, instantly missing the friction against his cock but eager for what he hopes is coming next. The angle is awkward—he can’t go very far, can’t present himself the way he wants to, but it works for now.

“Know ya love it, Daddy,” he whispers as he rests his forehead on the edge of the pillow and pants excitedly. God, he lives for this. He’s such a fucking contradiction, face down and ass up like a bitch in heat, gagging for it, but usually obstinate every step of the way to this point. He’s never been so eager to have someone inside of him before, and when sure fingers brush down the crease of his ass, nudging between his cheeks, he slams his eyes shut and moans through clenched teeth.

“Is this what you want, darling? You want me inside of you, my sweet little pet?”

“Fuckin’ Christ, knew you were a dirty fucker. _Yes._ Get th’ fuckin’ lube.”

A quick, light slap against his left cheek makes him jolt and yelp, which he swiftly follows with a whimper as he rocks back for more. Another blow lands, a little harder than the previous one, and he bites into the pillow quickly before glaring back over his shoulder. “Play later,” he huffs. “Want ya inside me _now_. C’mon.”

“Impatient,” Semyon chides him, his green eyes dark with desire. He reaches for the bedside drawer anyway, his weight lifting up off of Ardae’s legs. As soon as he’s free, he gets himself properly positioned, knowing exactly what he looks like when he’s like this because he’s been told by more than a few men. His hair is falling around his face, hiding his flushed cheeks from view and shielding his eyes until the man gathers it gently and braids it, his fingers hurried but sure. Once it’s mostly contained, he lets it drape over the side of Ardae’s neck. He nuzzles his face against Semyon’s fingers, ruining the tender action by quickly biting them. Another smack on the ass is his reward, but he was hoping for that anyway, so he smirks victoriously even as he groans. The expression is quickly wiped from his face when slick fingers press against his entrance.

“Fuck, yes,” he sighs, resting the side of his face against the mattress and squirming in anticipation. The first curious slide makes him clamp his teeth down on his lower lip, working at the flesh as pleasure ripples through him, edged by the same blunt discomfort that usually comes with being opened after too long without any kind of prep. “C’mon, c’mon, I know you can do better than that.”

He’s trying to goad the man into giving him more, into giving him what he wants, but Semyon just chuckles pleasantly and continues to tease him with the tips of two fingers, pressing them in enough for him to feel all of the stretch and none of the satisfaction before withdrawing them again. “Can I get a please, pet?”

“Fuckin’ _please_ , Daddy,” Ardae sobs, his hips rocking back desperately. “Please, want you inside of me. Want you so fucking deep— _aahn!_ ” The noise that slips out of him makes him burn from a combination of humiliation and pleasure when Semyon’s fingers push in in one quick, firm slide. They crook immediately, rubbing circles against his prostate, and he will deny the keen that rips out of him then for the rest of his life. His vision blurs and he shoves back, his hands spasming before he twists them into the bedsheet and clenches so hard he hears the fabric rip a little.

Jesus, he really is such a slut. Those two fingers twist inside of him, scissoring wide until he feels his hole gape open slightly as he’s stretched and readied for what’s going to be coming next. Semyon has fallen quiet, and he manages to glance back again, his lip caught in his teeth and the corners of his eyes creasing as he fights not to close them. The man is looking down at his ass, focused on what he’s doing. Angling his head a little, he tries to get a look at the cock that will soon be filling him, and growls when he realizes that he’s completely naked, but Semyon is still wearing his pajamas. The front of his pants is tenting impressively, and he remembers the feeling of it pressed against him their first night together. Licking his lips, he boldly meets the forest green eyes that have flicked up to stare at him.

“Gonna fuck me?” he breathes, and he can hear how eager he sounds. A third finger joins the others, and his eyes roll back in his head a little. “ _Fuck_ , that’s good. Bet you’ll feel so much better. C’mon, do it. _Nngh._ Wouldn’t you rather it be your dick I’m wrapped around?”

“You have no idea, pet,” Semyon rumbles—actually fucking _rumbles_ —at him. “I have to make sure you’re stretched first, though, don’t I? I will not hurt you because you’re impatient.”

“You really think you can hurt me?” He manages to scoff and turns away to thump his head down into his pillow again. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Only way you could is if you shoved in dry, without lubrication. Surprised you need to stretch me at all, after-”

“No.” The fingers leave, and he is thoroughly embarrassed by the fact that he whines at the loss of them. Strong hands grip his sides and roll him; he quickly draws his legs up so he doesn’t end up kicking the other man in the groin as he’s flipped onto his back. Then Semyon is there, sliding between his legs and spreading them wide open to completely bare him. He growls a little, leaning up to try and bite a clothed shoulder. Despite what he says, he feels a delicious little thrill at the fact that the other man is still fully dressed and he’s not. It somehow feels even filthier than just having his pants shoved down out of the way.

“No what?” he growls when he’s pushed back down before his teeth can dig in. Tilting his head back, he gives Semyon the long line of his throat, watching the man’s pupils grow a little wider at the silent invitation. Fuck yes. He knew there was a possessive motherfucker buried under that posh, cultured British exterior.

“I do not want to hear about any of that. They have no place here, when we’re like this.”

“Then fuck me, Daddy,” he moans, putting a little show into it with the way he undulates and rocks his hips up, wrapping a leg around the man’s strong thigh. “Wanna feel you deep in here.” He plays with his hole, dipping a finger in and moaning out _here_ just for the reaction he knows he’ll get. Semyon doesn’t disappoint, ripping himself away and flipping Ardae; yanking his hips up and pressing between his shoulder blades—a silent instruction for him to keep his face pressed into the pillow. He’s already biting it, chewing on his mouthful and using it to muffle his long, deep moan when the head of the man’s cock teases at his entrance, nudging in just a little bit before withdrawing again. Just when he’s about to spit out his makeshift gag and snap at Semyon to _fucking do something, already,_ he’s taken by surprise and has to bite down harder to stifle his howl when the man’s hips thrust forward, his cock slamming home until his hips are flush against Ardae’s ass.

 _Jesus fucking Christ._ Shit, Semyon’s bigger than he’d anticipated, having nothing to go on but the outline through his clothes and what he’d felt. He’s thicker, too, and it reminds Ardae of a joke he’d heard once about the nerdy, quiet guys always being the best endowed. There’s certainly proof of that inside of him right now, and his eyes are already rolling as he works his hips, clinging to the blankets and biting down on his pillow even harder as every inch drags against sensitive, clinging muscles when the man behind him pulls back slowly. It’s like the best kind of torture, feeling it leave and craving to have it back—choking on a sob when it slams back into him and rocks him up the bed.

“Is this what you wanted, pet?” Semyon purrs into his ear, tracing the shell with his tongue before nipping at it. He twitches, whining, and nods frantically as he dips his shoulders and arches his hips, welcoming more—begging for it the only way he can. When fingers curl around the front of his neck, applying gentle pressure, he bites through the chunk of pillow in his mouth and turns his head to spit it to the side, panting with his tongue out, his eyes hooded and his vision blurry.

“Yes, Daddy,” he rasps, the words scraping out of his throat with effort, because it feels like the man behind him has fucked most of his vocabulary right out of him. “Yes, please, fuck me harder. Feels so g— _ahhnn_ —so fuckin’ good, Daddy.”

“I’m glad you like it, my sweet boy.” The words make him shiver, the beast rumbling in delight at the alpha who has chosen them. Ardae can’t help but agree, because he’s been fucked by a lot of different men, and a lot of them have fucked him even harder than Semyon’s doing so right now, but none of them have gotten this level of submission from him. They conquered him, triumphing in winning over his fight and his aggression, and they claimed their prize voraciously and with little regard to the hole they took their pleasure from.

The human behind him, his sweet British accent edging into something rougher, his growls more akin to an animal’s than a man’s, has done what dozens of others never could. He’s attracted Ardae’s attention as well as the beast’s, and has been accepted by both of them. It wasn’t that long ago they looked upon him and sneered, the beast growling to taste his flesh and sate its hunger. Now they’re having another kind of hunger tended to, the air in his lungs stuttering sharply when Semyon’s fingers tighten around his throat again. It doesn’t feel like a victorious suitor laying claim to his spoils. It’s domination of another kind, the kind he’s always craved the most. In a way, for him, it’s security and safety, his life in Semyon’s hands with the full knowledge that nothing will ever be done to endanger that gift.

“Are you going to come for me, Ardae?” Semyon growls. His accent has been reduced to tatters, cultured British and growling Russian melding together into something that makes his eyes roll back in his head, his mouth open wide in a silent cry as his cum splatters against the sheets beneath him. He’s never come just by being fucked before—has gotten hard, absolutely, and has catered to clients who have been courteous enough to wrap a hand around him while they fucked him brutally until he spilled. He’s never had an orgasm this mind-blowing, though, and _never_ without any kind of stimulation on his cock. It leaves him shaking and clawing the bedsheets to ribbons as he bucks and writhes back into every gentling rock, Semyon’s frantic pace easing as he fucks him through his aftershocks until he finds his voice and whines, the overstimulation almost too much for him.

“Would you like me to come in you, my darling pet? Or would you like me to come on you and mark your pretty back with my claim?”

“In me, Daddy,” Ardae whispers, hiding his face in the remains of his ruined pillow and shuddering when Semyon pushes in deep and fast and stays there, grinding directly against his prostate until he chokes out a reedy shout and feels like he’s coming again. Blunt teeth bite into the meat of his shoulder, pinching until he can feel and smell the bruise blooming as the cock inside of him swells and twitches. His next groan is guttural, punched out of him with one last quick grind before the heavy weight of Semyon’s cock pulls out one last time and leaves him feeling wide open and empty. He can already feel the cum starting to leak out and reaches back to slide four fingers inside himself, plugging it back in and biting his lower lip as he feels how wet he is, how his hole is gaping open, his rim fluttering and clenching down until his fingers are gently pulled away. Before he can growl in protest, Semyon slides his own fingers inside, stretching them until it’s too much and his eyes are blurring all over again from the pleasure-pain.

“Stop,” he groans, and is surprised when the man does so immediately. A warm palm rubs up his spine, fingertips tickling at his nape, and then slowly drags back down again, leaving him to melt bonelessly against the mattress. He’s laying in his own puddle of cooling cum, which should be disgusting, but he’s feeling too relaxed to care as Semyon continues to touch him with something that borders on reverence and affection. These kinds of touches are so foreign to him, and would usually be enough to make his hackles rise, but he can’t find that usual aggression right now. Instead, a rumbling purr bubbles up from somewhere deep in his chest, his muscles all liquid and the serene darkness of sleep slowly encroaching again.

“Sleep, darling. I’ll be here,” Semyon whispers against his temple, pressing a sweet kiss there that makes him turn his head slowly, nuzzling into the contact and seeking more. A second kiss is bestowed upon him, this one pecked against his lips. He’s not kicked out, there’s no money thrown at him, and the touches fluttering over his shoulders aren’t pressing and cruel. He feels as his braid is undone, his long hair fanning down his back and slipping off his shoulders to offer him his familiar shield. One last gentle kiss is pressed against the crown of his head, soft words muttered in a language that he cannot understand, and then he’s slipping away, down into the peaceful embrace of dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Still not sorry. *slinks away*


End file.
